[POV – Storm]
Sleep was shallow and restless. Every time I drifted close, the burn in my chest dragged me back. I woke choking on phantom water, ribs locking tight, pulse hammering. The sound of gills rasping in the basin wasn't comforting. It reminded me that breathing wasn't natural anymore.
When my eyes opened, the world was still green and dim. Luma slept curled against a broken pillar, one arm wrapped around Kelvin's wiry body like she thought he might float away without her. The Reef Witch hovered by the cracked slab, beads faintly glowing, lips moving in whispers I couldn't hear. The others huddled in hollows, their bodies sharp with hunger, their dreams shallow as mine.
I pushed off the stone, moving toward the chute.
"Not yet," the Reef Witch rasped, eyes closed.
I froze. "I wasn't-"
"You were." She cracked one eye, cloudy but sharp. "The tunnels breathe. You don't know their rhythm. Wait for light."
I frowned. "Light?"
"Algae wakes with the tide. Safer then. Hungrier too."
She closed her eyes again, humming low. I drifted back to my hollow. Hunger twisted inside me, sharp as teeth.
Slowly, the algae brightened, painting faint green across the basin walls. Figures stirred. Groans. Weak movements. No one woke with energy, only with need.
Kelvin yawned wide, rubbing his eyes. "Breakfast?"
"There is no breakfast," Luma said, sitting up. Her eyes found me. "You. With me."
Kelvin pushed upright. "I'm coming too."
"You're guarding," she snapped.
He puffed up. "I'm a natural guard. No one will pass me."
"No one wants to," she muttered, shoving him back.
He sulked but stayed. Luma pulled a tangled net free and gestured for me to follow.
The chute spilled us into the shallows. Light fractured from above, fish flickering silver. My stomach cramped at the sight.
"Teach," Luma said.
I took the net, fingers moving without hesitation. "You twist wet strands around dry. Always anchor a weight. Current opens the mesh, doesn't close it."
She watched, then tried. Her hands were clumsy but steady. She wasn't fast, but she learned.
"You've done this before," she said.
I hesitated. "Not here."
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't press.
We planted the net, let the current pull it wide, and waited. Minutes dragged like hours. Hunger gnawed deeper. Then the school nosed in, too far. I yanked.
The net snapped shut. Four fish.
Luma cut quick, blood curling red in the water. She tied them to her belt, eyes shining faintly. "Better."
"Better," I echoed, though my chest ached with need.
We swam back, Kelvin waiting at the chute with a grin too wide for his face. "See? I guarded perfectly. Not a single shark got past."
"You never saw one," Luma said flatly.
"That's why I'm good," he said proudly.
The fish were cut thin, shared again. Barely bites, but enough to keep the basin moving. The Reef Witch touched the slab and hummed. "Salt Father hears. The tide bends."
Her words tasted bitter. The tide bent because we caught scraps, not because a god answered.
The system flickered again.
[Skill tendency raised: Improvised Netweaving II]
[New skill detected: Cooperative Tactics I]
I swallowed hard. Cooperative tactics. That was teamwork. The system dressed it up like magic, but it was just survival.
The next cycles blurred. Nets thrown. Fish caught. Scraps shared. Always hunger. Always exhaustion. Yet something shifted. We weren't just enduring. We were working.
The system whispered with every step.
[Group task completed: Netline Reinforcement]
[Settlement Survival +2]
[Skill tendency raised: Tactics II]
Numbers. Small, but climbing.
At night, I dreamt again. Not of my old life. Not of screens or keys. Dreams of a city under water. Towers half-buried in coral. Roads flooded waist-deep. Children playing tag through ruins while predators circled above. Then the sea split, and a figure rose-skin of salt, hair of waves, faceless and vast. The Salt Father. His gaze fell on me, and I felt smaller than ever.
When I woke, the Reef Witch was watching from across the basin, her eyes too clear for her age.
The Cartel came sooner than expected.
Shadows filled the chute, fins slicing the water. This time, they didn't pause. They glided into the basin with the heavy confidence of rulers.
The Reef Witch rose, song already trembling in her throat. The slab glowed. Pressure pressed into me like a hand on my chest. Tribute.
The gnomes froze. Fear thickened the water.
I clenched my jaw. Tribute meant slow death. Defiance meant fast death. Both ended the same. Unless…
I grabbed the nearest net weighted with stone and shell. My arms shook, but I held it high.
"Not tribute," I said. My voice cracked but carried. "Teeth."
Luma's eyes widened. She yanked the cord. The net snapped tight around the nearest shark's snout. It thrashed, tail lashing, water boiling with force. Stones cut shallow lines across its skin. Blood clouded the basin.
The gnomes shouted. The Reef Witch's song rose louder, pulsing light from the slab. The sharks recoiled, confusion bleeding into fury. The leader's black eyes burned into me, memorizing my face. Then, with a lash of tails, they retreated.
Silence followed, broken by Kelvin's cheer. "Storm-voice made the Cartel bleed!"
Luma's chest heaved, but her eyes were fire. "You bought us time. That's all."
The Reef Witch's gaze locked on me, deep and unreadable. "Storm has begun. The sea will answer."
I clutched the net cord, chest still burning. I hadn't saved us. Not yet. But I'd done something no one else dared.
And the system knew it.
[Event triggered: First Defense]
[Settlement morale +10]
[Skill unlocked: Primitive Traps I]
[Hidden storyline unlocked: Rise of the Storm]
Rise of the Storm.
I didn't know what the sea wanted. I didn't care.
All I knew was that I wasn't going to die a nameless monster.